


Lost Love is Sweeter (when it's finally found)

by kenshincha



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Feels, Artist Steve Rogers, Immortality, M/M, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-29 11:19:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17807036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenshincha/pseuds/kenshincha
Summary: Tony had always encouraged Pepper's expanding of his art collection, but it wasn't art he was really looking for.





	Lost Love is Sweeter (when it's finally found)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missy_dee811](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy_dee811/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Do I Wanna Know?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5519582) by [Missy_dee811](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy_dee811/pseuds/Missy_dee811). 



> This is for the Cap-Ironman Remix Exchange. Missy_dee811 had so many great stories to choose from (which I highly recommend them all) but the story "Do I Wanna Know?" was the one that sparked my muse.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Title is from Børns - Past Lives (which I found quite appropriate for obvious reasons).

When his music lowered, Tony automatically turned to see Pepper open the door to his workshop, a tablet under her arm. He put down his soldering iron and took off his mask. "I thought I signed enough forms after yesterday's meeting to last me at least a year, Ms. Potts." 

Pepper gave her usual wry smile. "Maybe for a week." She stopped in front of him and gestured to the device. "Your monthly art report, Mr. Stark." 

Tony hummed in delight. He could never suppress that thrum of excitement, even knowing he was probably facing disappointment once again. He took off his gloves and accepted the offered tablet. "Tell me you've got some good ones today." 

"I always have great ones," she corrected. 

He quirked a smile. "As long as I'm not paying millions for some cloth painted black and called deep, I'll take your word for it." 

Pepper was too professional to roll her eyes at him, which he admired. He didn't have the same amount of patience she did. 

Tony had always encouraged Pepper's expanding of his art collection since she first showed interest. She was drawn towards the abstract, anything that required some interpretation. He let her indulge in Rothko and Mondrian, and all those artists that throw some paint splatter on a canvas and call it a day. 

He played up the ignorant layman, accusing it of being on par with kindergarten finger-painting. He pushed her towards realism and figurativism, towards new artists with honed technique. He told her he wanted to discover the next big artist; he wanted to finance the next "Leonardo DiCaprio." She'd stopped trying to correct him after the fifth time. 

Tony swiped through the pages, not paying much mind to her latest acquisitions, all older pieces. He wondered what Pepper made of his demands for these detailed reports. She probably figured she was humoring one of his many quirks. She didn't know what he was really looking for. 

The next section was recent gallery openings and exhibits that she had selected to sponser under Tony's name. He spent a little more time scanning through those. Examples of the featured art flitted past until he landed on one piece. 

It was a dark landscape, a fantastical skyline of skyscrapers silhouetted by a burst of a starry sky. One skyscraper in particular rose above the rest, seeming to reach for a large, bright blue-tinted star. 

Tony let out a heavy breath. It was not a piece he'd ever seen before, but it was familiar all the same.

"Mr. Stark?" Pepper asked tentatively. He didn't blame her concern. He'd never reacted like this before. He'd never had reason to until now. 

"JARVS!" Tony barked, startling her. He quickly swiped back to the exhibit details. "What's the date?" 

"Friday the 18th, sir. It is three forty-six in the afternoon."

The exhibit was tonight. 

He grinned at Pepper. "Fancy a trip to SoHo?"

\-------------

The gallery wasn't really Tony's style. There were too many people that he unfortunately knew, and too many hipsters he fortunately did not know. The exhibit was an excuse to drink and network. He wouldn't normally oppose either, but he was on a different mission.

In the beginning, Pepper was glued to his side. Tony had been tight-lipped to her earlier interrogation attempts. Once they arrived, he just wondered around, schmoozing with a few people and taking a photo-op or two. Luckily, the art was actually worthy of being exhibited, and an hour of looping past the more abstract art piqued Pepper's curiosity enough for her to take a closer look. Tony waited until she was in a deep conversation with a stunning redhead about a painting of some violent slashes of color before slipping away. 

Now that the opportunity presented itself, Tony wasted no time heading towards the collection in the back corner that he'd avoided all night. He had waited so long. Too long. He couldn't stand another moment. 

Tony moved along from one painting to the next, each more stunning than the last: a smoky scene in a bar, a landscape of snowy pine trees and, finally, a portrait. 

But Tony wasn't looking at the portrait. He was staring at the man before it. His back was to him. His broad shoulders were made to look even broader in his suit jacket, and they blocked most of the painting. His golden hair glowed lightly in the gallery lights. It was shorter than Tony last remembered. He was... 

"Beautiful," Tony commented.

Steve startled and turned. His eyes were clear, bright blue, a color Tony had ached to see again. "I'm sorry?" He did a small double take, as if struck by a sudden deja vu. 

Tony smirked. "The painting. It's beautiful." 

Steve relaxed a little. "Thank you. I suppose it is." He turned back to the painting, a sad longing overtaking his festures. "Very beautiful." 

Tony's heart ached for him. He could never decide who had it worse: the man who remembered everything of every lifetime and was consumed with the need to find the other half of his soul, or the man who remembered nothing but was overcome by an emptiness he couldn't understand. Steve always described it as a dark pit where his heart was suppose to be. 

Tony studied the portrait for the first time. It was a younger, smooth-faced version of himself, lounging in bed with silken sheets pooled in his lap. His skin was glowing with morning light in contrast to his dark surroundings. He couldn't point to an exact moment or even an exact century the scene was from. Perhaps Paris or Milan. There were a few lifetimes where his obsession with silk was absolute. 

Tony took a closer look at his own face, which, at the risk of sounding narcissistic, was very handsome. The love flowing out of his eyes would feel exposing if it wasn't what had kept him going for so many lifetimes. "You must feel truly loved by this man. To paint him so boldly, so carefully." 

Steve's face shut down, an attempt at a blank canvas. "No. It's-- It's from a dream. There's no real man. There's no real love. Just hopeless fantasy. " 

Tony's gut twisted. "It's not hopeless. That love is real." 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, something he only did when he was overwhelmed with emotion and irritated at not keeping control. "Right. If you'll excuse me--" He turned away.

"Steve." 

Steve turned back, his brow creased. "How did you know my name?" 

Tony smirked and grabbed his hand. Steve resisted a moment, but soon allowed Tony to pull him out of the main gallery to an empty hallway. He pushed him against the wall, and by the tightening anger in Steve's face, this was the extent of his cooperation. 

Before Steve could move away, Tony leaned into him. "It's real," he said, his breath ghosting over Steve's lips before brushing them gently with his own. 

Steve gasped, his chest expanding like he was taking the first full breath of air after being trapped underwater. 

His arms were solid and strong as they crushed Tony into an embrace. This second kiss was far from gentle, and Tony wanted to weep. If Steve has been drowning in the ocean, Tony had been dying of thirst in a desert. It was the sweet cool water of an oasis after years of wandering alone. 

When they broke apart Steve cupped Tony's face with his hands. His eyes shown bright in the dark hallway. He looked at him with recognition, with disbelief, with all-encompassing love. "Tony." 

Tony grinned. "I told you I'd find you again."


End file.
